’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. ” “Where is your husband?” Anna asked. " "I will," replied Sheppard, dashing the glass from his hand. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple.
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