Your life is like a funeral March. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it. Do I blow off the head of a man with whom I am in love?’ ‘That,’ said Gerald, disengaging his hand and at last drawing her into his arms, ‘deserves a reward. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. "'And thine eye shall not pity,'" said her father, in a tone of rebuke, "'but, life shall be for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. And I am coming to believe the best as well as the most beautiful friends a man can have are girl friends.
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