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“I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. The militia offered little in the way of relief. “You have the temperament,” he said. CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. . ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture.
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