“Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone.
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