"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. ‘I can manage now. "Don't you know me, mother?" "Ah!" shrieked Mrs. Out of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager.
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