“I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. I do not love any one. “I doubted my luck, at least. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. "A husband has little to fear from his wife's kinsfolk.
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