” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. “I saw you go into that place, and I have been waiting for you ever since. I shall make no defence. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. "The feeling is dead within my breast.
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