Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. I mystify you; I can see that. “I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous.
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