I think the sting and smart might have turned to tears if Father had not been looking down at me . `` Yes . Did n't you see him in his father 's pew ? But I forgot . You are too demure to be looking at the young men in preaching -- or out of it , Isobel . You are a model young woman . Odd that the men never like the model young women ! Curse old Malcolm Fraser ! What right has he to have a son like that when I have nothing but a puling girl ? Remember , Isobel , that if you ever meet that young man you are not to speak to or look at him , or even intimate that you are aware of his existence . He is your enemy and the enemy of your race . You will show him that you realize this . '' Of course that ended it all -- though just what there had been to end would have been hard to say . Not long afterwards I met Alan Fraser again , when I was out for a canter on my mare . He was strolling through the beech wood with a couple of big collies , and he stopped short as I drew near . I had to do it -- Father had decreed -- my Shirley pride demanded -- that I should do it . I looked him unseeingly in the face , struck my mare a blow with my whip , and dashed past him . I even felt angry , I think , that a Fraser should have the power to make me feel so badly in doing my duty . After that I had forgotten . There was nothing to make me remember , for I never met Alan Fraser again .
The years slipped by , one by one , so like each other XXXXX their colourlessness that I forgot to take account of them .
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