Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. “I am giving my understudy a chance. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. And I'll have supper with you. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced.
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