“My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. I do not believe that you will marry David Courtlaw. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. ‘For that I shall certainly not leave until you have told me every tiny detail. But I'll tell you about him some other time. He read the Times with an unusually passionate intentness, and then declared suddenly for the earlier of the two trains he used.
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