He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. You will be under the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat that child for what she is —an innocent angel—I promise to hunt you across the wide world and kill you with bare hands. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. You’ve got me. ’ ‘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. You Americans laugh at our custom of honouring our ancestors, our many-times great grandfathers.
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