” She glared at him balefully. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. Silk. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. Kneebone nodded.
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