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CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. And you don’t know what led to our separation. " The lack of a family album for some reason put a little ache in her heart. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat. ’ He sighed elaborately. One was in the Indian Civil Service and one in the rapidly developing motor business. You’d make a good Devil. " "My confessor!" ejaculated the knight, in the extremity of surprise; "has he betrayed his sacred trust?" "He has," replied the other, grinning; "and this will be a caution to you in future, how you confide a secret of consequence to a priest. . It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. We had no idea.
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