He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. The unfortunate carpenter struggled violently, but ineffectually. The Ralphs and Mannings and Fortescues came down upon the raw inexperience, upon the blinking ignorance of the newcomer; and before her eyes were fairly open, before she knew what had happened, a new set of guides and controls, a new set of obligations and responsibilities and limitations, had replaced the old. Ramage—about the forty pounds.
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