270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. . “Stop,” he said. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. He seemed to have expected them. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. He resented being regarded as irregular. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. I told him the truth.
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