But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. ‘Sapristi. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. Oh God! pardon me. ’ She advanced towards him.
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