She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Her fingers opened and the weapon fell from her nerveless grasp. Manning, I do not really want to marry.
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