This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. The ring's yours, and you're mine. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. It’s all very fine and all that, Vee, this freedom, but it isn’t going to work.
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