Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. “But I have no troubles. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. Pardon! I wish to say, for your granddaughter, we seek succour. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. You don’t have to live forever to understand that.
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