A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. just furtive meetings.
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