\"Where are you going?\" She cried. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. “I’ll be hanged if I do. . ” Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the doorstep. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. Mr. Kneebone nodded. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her.
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