But this is not sufficient. You might get faint, but you can fight it. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. “She”, you say. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU.
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