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Updated: May 12, 2025
At that word Bryde's blade seemed to waver an instant, and Hugh's bit into his thigh, but like a flash I saw Bryde recover, and a lightning stroke and Hugh's cutlass was clattering on the cobbles, and then I saw Bryde whirl his sword round his head, and raise himself uplifted for a dreadful blow that would have cleft his cousin to the chest, and the cruel smile was still on both faces, and then Bryde stopped.
"What would his father be like, Hamish Bryde's father?" "A fine man he was, Margaret, but a little wild." "Ay," said she, "he would be spoiled with the lasses." And for a while she was thoughtful.
But when the ring was on her finger and Margaret had lifted the veil, she turned to her man, and held him to be kissing her. "You are kind to me, Hugh," said she in a little low voice. And when it would be Bryde's turn to be at the kissing, she kissed his cheek.
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