"Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. . She was nearly too giddy still to answer him. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. . \" Lucy said. Gerald’s chest tightened. "You've perjured yourself.
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