“David Courtlaw!” she repeated. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room.
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