‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. ” “You are a marvellous courier,” she declared, as they passed into the street. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears.
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