The delay was only momentary. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. " "As you please, Sir,—provided you don't let him off. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. It’s one of our conventional superstitions.
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