She was like an angel with one wing. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. And even if that,’ she added bitterly, ‘he must be also a person of a disposition extremely mad, that he can go against the family. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession.
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