No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. 148 “Sure. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. His blood would be sweet with it. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it. It made her laugh, which in turn made him laugh.
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