Mollie would not dare publish this story of hers for her own
sake, and neither would Carl Walraven for his wife's.
"He does not deny it!" cried Mollie. "He dare not. Look at his changing
face. He carried me off and held me a prisoner in his mother's house,
and gave out I was mad. And that is not the worst he has done. I might
overlook that, now that I have safely escaped--"
Dr. Oleander suddenly interrupted her.
"That is the very worst--and you dare not publish it, even to punish
me."
"What!" exclaimed the young lady, "do you deny your other tenfold
greater crime--the compulsory marriage performed by the Reverend Raymond
Rashleigh? Oh, if there be law or justice in the whole country, you
shall suffer for that!"
"I do deny it," said the doctor, boldly. "You are no wife of mine by
compulsion or otherwise. That story was trumped up to deceive you the
second time."
Mollie's heart gave one great throb, and then seemed to stand still.
Mrs. Walraven turned, ghastly with fear and rage, upon her cousin.
"Guy Oleander, are you mad? What are you saying?"
"The truth, Blanche.
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