"If you two loved each other," went on the doctor, "there would be something to stand on—a reason why for this madness. 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. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. Ramage.
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