I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering.
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