His voice had broken. In a moment his grasp grew weaker. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. " "Back!" cried Rowland. Courtlaw rose to his feet. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire.
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