’ ‘Precisely. ” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. Taking the wind was her business in life. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch.
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