\" She whispered back. I do swear. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son. " The order was promptly obeyed. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose.
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