"Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. But what if she were to marry? He glanced towards the elderly dame and found her watching him, the dimple very much in evidence. Our ideal had fallen. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. E. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write.
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