The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. ” She laughed. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Only your horror of a grandfather insisted on coming with me, so I had to wait for him to be ready and travel at his pace. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss.
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