But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. ” “As you will, dear lover. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. " "Shall I tell you a real story?" "Something you have seen?" "Yes. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest.
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