Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. "I will administer it. In the upper hall he paused to listen. ” “Why?” “If I were bad at it, you would be on your way to the hospital by now. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. To fall upon those tales for the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young! He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. Only you good ones— shirk.
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