A girl—at my age—is grown-up. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. ” She paused. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. \"May I come in?\" His bravado was increasing. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. Or I should have made love to you long ago.
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