It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway. You can’t! I tell you frankly you may break off your engagement to me—I shall hold myself still engaged to you, yours just the same. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city.
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