The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. “The man is dangerous. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. “They have no plans for us. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ” He receded from her. Today you shall promise me that you will pull no more of these stunts. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good.
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