“You were born for great things,” he said huskily. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. I got myself locked up to cool off. This is my first venture over here. They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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