Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears. Again he rushed. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. He has no imagination, no real generosity. . And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. And later they paddled in a boat above the mysterious deeps of the See, and peered down into the green-blues and the blue-greens together.
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