Ere the Dwarf could collect himself to reply, the reiver of Westburnflat set spurs to his horse.
Surmounting the wall, I approached the spot where I had seen the reiver first.
That season, Mrs. reiver—perhaps you will remember her—was in the height of her power, and many men lay under her yoke.
He learned to fetch and carry like a dog, and to wait like one, too, for a word from Mrs. reiver.
There was no honesty about Mrs. reiver; nothing but selfishness.
Mrs. reiver had broken him of talking about himself, and made him talk about her own merits.
He was troubled in his own mind over his attempts to make himself "worthy of the friendship" of Mrs. reiver.
Everything bad that could be said has already been said about Mrs. reiver, in another tale.
He learned to take thankfully dances which Mrs. reiver had no intention of giving him.
From what he said, one gathered how immense an influence Mrs. reiver held over him, and how thoroughly he felt for his own lapse.