“Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. Close upon this came another thought. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. YOU did.
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