Then she sang. " Other towers and spires—St. Her mother…. And then they disgorged. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. “The thing I feel most disposed to say, Miss Stanley,” he began at last, “is that this is very sudden.
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