A long day's march was before him, his object being to secure a dwelling to which he might take Eustacia when she became his wife.
Though Eustacia could not eat without uncovering her face she could drink easily enough beneath her disguise.
You, Eustacia, stand on the edge of a precipice without knowing it.
Charley seasoned his admiration with criticism of the gentlest kind, for the touch of Eustacia's hand yet remained with him.
Eustacia's voice had sounded somewhat more juvenile and fluty than Charley's.
