He had the animal's instinct to den up, to seek winter quarters.

Certain ties other than those of Mary's love combined to draw him back to Marmion for the winter.

If he could only shake off his burdening notoriety and go back to see her--to ask her advice--perhaps she could aid him.

But to _sneak_ back again--to crawl about in dark corners--that was impossible.
He was no longer the frank and boyish lover of adventure.

Life troubled him now, conduct was become less simple, actions each day less easily determined.