” Courtlaw suddenly interposed. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.
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