She had heard the trader utter it many times. “You are not content then with stealing from me my name. Just one thing more. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. For it was but logical that she would seek a divorce on the ground that she had unknowingly married a fugitive from justice. And I’m afraid. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat.
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