His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. “My child, I do not wish. "No," replied Jonathan, with a brutal laugh. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. " "And all the time you loved her?"—appalled.
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