“Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. "You are all right?"—anxiously. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. "I declare you throw me into an ague. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. I have had enough of your hysterical behavior. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so.
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