"Won't be under an obligation. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. She twisted to meet him and folded into his embrace. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. Her face expressed nothing. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her.
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