Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. I care not. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. He was tender with her as he had not been in years.
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