" "I shouldn't call her queer. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. “He knows. Courtlaw, Mr. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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