Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. She turned there and beckoned. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples.
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