Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. In a moment his grasp grew weaker. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. He recognised this object at once. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient.
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