Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. ” He stared at a little eddy. “There are a good many Whites in London. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. Only think how compromising. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees.
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