And then amusement crept into Alderley’s chest and he let his pistol hand fall. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour.
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