She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. Come down, I say, instantly, or I'll make you. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. " "Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's," cried Jack, brandishing the bar. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last.
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