"Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. I haven’t, anyhow. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. And I am grateful to you. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. You go to your room and ring for your maid. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. She was now permitted freely to study the face. All at once her heart began to patter queerly.
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