She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. . She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. “I can’t conceive what you want. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. .
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