"Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the
cell. The features
were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow
below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun?
Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of
energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald
made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. She had told him, point blank, that
since the Church had neither annulled the first marriage
nor sanctified the second one, she was not his wife. And the fences are down for good. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his
hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but
that changed when you saw his face. He lives in constant dread of a reappearance of ‘La
Belle Alcide,’ and hearing it said that she is his wife’s sister.
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This video was uploaded to aoktires.info on 30-06-2024 20:20:50