His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. ” Sir John coughed. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment.
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