‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. If some of them are bad in the sense you mean, it is because there are bad folks in all walks of life. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. Surely he was imagining this picture. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. “You’ll get me to allude to it, but you’d have to torture me to admit it. Will you let me go out of this room?” “No,” cried Ramage; “hear me out! I’ll have that satisfaction, anyhow. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive.
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