But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door.
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