I want my freedom. ’ Gerald grinned. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. I don’t want any laws or freedoms to protect me from a man like Mr. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. After that consolations fled. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that.
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