” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. They used to marry us off at seventeen, rush us into things before we had time to protest. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. Hill, I hope you won’t find everything cold. His blood would be sweet with it. “Then I suppose when I have graduated I am to come home?” “It seems the natural course—” “And do nothing?” “There are plenty of things a girl can find to do at home. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more.
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