You English are all, all despicable, mean, vile!" She was remembering the young officer who had assaulted her with his sword in the house a while ago.

And (what a strange thing the human brain is!) she at the same time comforted herself with the further thought that Beverley would never, never, be guilty of rudeness to a woman.
"Some time you shall not say that," Farnsworth responded.

"I asked you to stop a moment that I might beg you to believe how wretchedly sorry I am for what I am doing.

But you cannot understand me now.

Are you really hurt, Miss Roussillon?
I assure you that it was purely accidental." "My hurt is nothing," she said.
"I am very glad." "Well, then, shall we go on to the fort ?" "You may go where you please, Mademoiselle." She turned her back upon him and without an answering word walked straight to the lantern that hung by the gate of the stockade, where a sentinel tramped to and fro.