He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. “Let’s go in here. I love my husband. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently. " "You're a philosopher, too. Yet you knew that I was not dead. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword.
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