’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. And, in fact, all round the problem you don’t know and I don’t see how I could possibly have told you before.
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