‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. She rode him gently. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. "Heed her not.
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