She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. "You have saved his life," replied Blueskin. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. ‘And why have you not arrested him? Do not tell me you have allowed him to escape you. —You've your answer, Blueskin," he added, pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; "it's useless to urge the matter further. Her heart swelled to suffocation. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. What do you say?” “I agree,” Anna said coldly, “if you will make it three months. It'll be your turn to save mine next.
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