‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. After he had endured this torture for an hour, at a sign from Wild another hundred weight was added. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. The Reverend Henry Dolby performed the cermony, and his wife and daughter were witnesses. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed.
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