I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. I can never be grateful enough. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. She looked at him curiously. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain.
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