” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. But she had loved the man. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him.
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