“You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. “I do. Farewell. The Wastrel did not relish this. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. . He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold.
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