"Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. “I wonder if you give me a thought. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. “She means to go. I was rude and stupid. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. This laugh and his looks alarmed her.
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