“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. To-morrow I am going to Paris. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. He was not in love with her en désespoir which, he said, was necessary if a man would marry without getting a dowry from his wife. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet.
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