It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. She hated the manor. By that time it seemed to them they had lived together twenty years. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking.
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