It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due. I've sent for the priest. . ” Then it was her father issued his ultimatum. Deny me, if you please. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. Not I. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. But we cannot discuss this here. I asked him—to take me away. Some day I may forgive you; but not now.
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