He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. “Thank you. He asked her whether she understood what she was saying, and went on to say still more precisely that she should never touch a penny of his money until she came home again—not one penny. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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