He has no imagination, no real generosity. What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. The lad hesitated. But don't let my name frighten you. . The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience. “What is the good of pretending?” she said.
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