Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. An action which gave Gerald furiously to think. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. Certain information, it seems, has been received from a female, that Blueskin would be at a flash-ken near the Chase at five o'clock to-day, and they're all set out in the expectation of nabbing him. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced.
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