” He stood looking at the preparations before them with an unusual preoccupation of manner, then roused himself to take her jacket, a little awkwardly, and hand it to the waiter who hung it in the corner of the room. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. ” His face darkened.
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