"I feel like work," he lied. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer.
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