R. D. Blackmore

R. D. Blackmore

Summary

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 43. Not too soon (1869)

Don't you think it is high time to put on your snow-shoes, John?'
'Certainly not,' I answered, 'till we have settled something more. I was so cold when I came in; and now I am as warm as a cricket. And so are you, you lively soul; though you are not upon my hearth yet.'
'Remember, John,' said Lorna, nestling for a moment to me; 'the severity of the weather makes a great difference between us. And you must never take advantage.'
'I quite understand all that, dear. And the harder it freezes the better, while that understanding continues.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 43. Not too soon (1869)

No, John, quickly. I hate him so intensely, that less than a week would kill me.'
'Not a doubt of that,' said Gwenny; 'oh, she hates him nicely then; but not half so much as I do.'
I told them that this state of things could be endured no longer, on which point they agreed with me, but saw no means to help it. For even if Lorna could make up her mind to come away with me and live at Plover's Barrows farm, under my good mother's care, as I had urged so often, behold the snow was all around us, heaped as high as mountains, and how could any delicate maiden ever get across it?
Source: Wikisource

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