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Rh "You cannot suppose," exclaimed he, "that I would marry his widow! his murderer!" Henrietta gazed upon him, with the fire flashing from her large black eyes. "And. what do you suppose I sent to you for?" Sir George stood silent, and she rapidly continued:— "I sent for you that I might know the sweetness of revenge; that I might tell you how I scorned, how I loathed you! Do you think that I am not perfectly aware of the mean treachery of your conduct?" "Maynard is"—faltered Sir George Kingston. "What you are not—a person in whom belief may be placed. Now I understand the contrast between yourself and your letters. But it is of no use talking now; the servants will soon be stirring, and it would be rather awkward to be found here." "For you, perhaps, madam," sneered Sir George.