"You were no doubt surprised by the unlooked-for intelligence I sent you of your nephew's return?" "Was it unlooked-for on your part?" demanded the knight, distrustfully. We’re different. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. “You’ll be there, right?” She asked, hearing his breathing audibly jump.
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