“Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ’ ‘You always were an old sobersides, even as a boy,’ retorted the major, who was close on thirty now, yet as ripe for excitement as he had been on receiving his first commission at sixteen. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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