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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"


"I will be liking it none the worse, you may be sure of that," said
she.
We did not speak so much that day; she seemed a thought on the
reserve, though not unkindly. As for me, all the time of our
walking, and after we came home, and I had seen her put my flower
into a pot of water, I was thinking to myself what puzzles women
were. I was thinking, the one moment, it was the most stupid thing
on earth she should not have perceived my love; and the next, that
she had certainly perceived it long ago, and (being a wise girl
with the fine female instinct of propriety) concealed her
knowledge.
We had our walk daily. Out in the streets I felt more safe; I
relaxed a little in my guardedness; and for one thing, there was no
Heineccius. This made these periods not only a relief to myself,
but a particular pleasure to my poor child. When I came back about
the hour appointed, I would generally find her ready dressed, and
glowing with anticipation. She would prolong their duration to the
extreme, seeming to dread (as I did myself) the hour of the return;
and there is scarce a field or waterside near Leyden, scarce a
street or lane there, where we have not lingered.


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