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As for the horse's rider, my Lady Dunstanwolde, whose way it had
been to avoid this man and to thrust him from her path by whatsoever
adroit means she could use, on these occasions made no effort to
evade him and his glances; in sooth, he knew, though none other did
so, that when she fought with her horse she did it with a fierce joy
in that he beheld her. 'Twas as though the battle was between
themselves; and knowing this in the depths of such soul as he
possessed, there were times when the man would have exulted to see
the brute rise and fall upon her, crushing her out of life, or dash
her to the earth and set his hoof upon her dazzling upturned face.
Her scorn and deadly defiance of him, her beauty and maddening
charm, which seemed but to increase with every hour that flew by,
had roused his love to fury. Despite his youth, he was a villain,
as he had ever been; even in his first freshness there had been
older men--and hardened ones--who had wondered at the selfish
mercilessness and blackness of the heart that was but that of a boy.
They had said among themselves that at his years they had never
known a creature who could be so gaily a dastard, one who could plan
with such light remorselessness, and using all the gifts given him
by Nature solely for his own ends, would take so much and give so
little. In truth, as time had gone on, men who had been his
companions, and had indeed small consciences to boast of, had begun
to draw off a little from him, and frequent his company less. He
chose to tell himself that this was because he had squandered his
fortune and was less good company, being pursued by creditors and
haunted by debts; but though there was somewhat in this, perchance
'twas not the entire truth.
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