The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. Let’s go up to my room. Practically all. This way, Sir Rowland.
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