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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Whosoever Shall Offend"

If I were a poor man, nobody would
think it at all strange if--" Marcello hesitated.
"If what?"
"If I married Regina," said Marcello rather desperately.
Folco's expression changed instantly.
"Was that the question you were going to ask me?" he inquired.
"Yes."
Marcello grew very red and smoked so fast that he choked himself.
"Is there any earthly reason why you should marry her?" asked Folco very
quietly.
"It would be right," Marcello answered, gaining courage.
"Yes, yes, undoubtedly," Folco hastened to admit. "In principle it would
undoubtedly be right. But it is a very serious matter, my dear boy. It
means your whole life and future. Have you"--he hesitated, with an
affectation of delicacy--"have you said anything to her about it?"
"I used to, at first, but she would not hear of it. You have no idea how
simple she is, and how little she expects anything of the sort. She
always tells me that I am to send her away when I am tired of her, to
throw her away like an old coat, as she says herself. But I could never
do that, you know. Could I?"
Marcello blushed again, hardly knowing why. Corbario seemed deeply
interested.
"She must be a very unusual sort of girl," he observed thoughtfully.
"There are not many like her, I fancy."
"There is nobody like her," Marcello answered with conviction. "That is
why I want to marry her. I owe it to her. You must admit that. I owe her
my life, for I certainly should have died if she had not taken care of
me.


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