Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left.
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