So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. Sooner or later she’s going to run away again, and I want Frith to follow her and find out where she’s living. You are my wife, and I am determined to claim you.
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