Stimulated by the promise of something handsome to drink, the man acquitted himself to admiration in the management of his lazy cattle. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Wood. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. I will never consent till I see him.
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