“Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed. ” His voice conveyed studied moderation. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. There was a strange quality of steel in this pretty creature. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. They reluctantly went back to school the Thursday after New Year’s Day. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said.
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