In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. She was pensive and thoughtful. "Very well, Mr. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. We’ll be somewhere on the floor above.
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