Don't you see Mr. " Downstairs he sought the hotel manager. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. “Hullo!” Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of content. I have always understood that men avoid like the plague a woman with a sense of humour. We'll have him yet. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech.
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