” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. And then, as she answered nothing, “Seeing that we are lovers. It slipped out—as did that “she”. At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away.
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