“Some day,” she answered. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. That bruise will answer the same purpose. She felt she must fly before it and could no longer do so. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear.
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