"How have you contrived to still these troubled waters?" "I've chanced upon an old ally in the Master of the Mint," answered Rowland. She saw how overworked he was. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared.
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