So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. It filled her with indefinable fear. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip.
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