But I had not known that the thing was to touch me close.

Could I forgive her my angry humiliation and my sore heart, bruised love and burning ridicule?
I could forgive her for being all she now was.

How could I forgive her for having been once my Cydaria?
"Well, you must fight," said Darrell, "although it is not a good quarrel," and he shook my hand very kindly with a sigh of friendship.
"Yes, I must fight," said I, "and after that--if there be an after--I must go to Whitehall." "To take up your commission ?" he asked.
"To lay it down, Mr Darrell," said I with a touch of haughtiness.

"You don't think that I could bear it, since it comes from such a source ?" He pressed my hand, saying with a smile that seemed tender, "You're from the country.

Not one in ten would quarrel with that here." "Yes, I'm from the country," said I."It was in the country that I knew Cydaria.".