For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. ’ His colour deepened. I am yours for the making over. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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