“Well,” she said, “good-night, father. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. E. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie.
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