I must tell guardy all, and get him to help me."
"Is there no one you suspect?"
"Not one--now," Mollie replied, turning away from him.
How could Mollie Dane tell him she had ever suspected, ever hoped, it
might be himself? It was evidently a matter of very little moment to him.
"And you can not forgive the love that resorts to such extreme measures,
Mollie?" he asked, after a pause.
"No more than I can forgive Doctor Oleander for carrying me off and
holding me captive in his dreary farmhouse," answered Mollie, steadily.
"No, Mr. Ingelow, I will never forgive the man who married me against my
will."
"Not even if you cared a little for him, Mollie?"
He asked the question hesitatingly, as if he had something at stake in
the answer. And Mollie's eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed angry red
as she heard it.
"I care for no one in that way, Mr. Ingelow," she said, in a ringing
voice. "You ought to know that. If I did, I should hate him for his
dastardly deed."
Dead silence fell. Mollie stood looking down at the bustle of Broadway
at one window, Mr.
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