“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. I suppose you will think me very unsisterly and cold-hearted, but there are circumstances in connexion with my sister’s latest exploit which are intensely irritating both to my husband and to myself. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand.
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