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Mere formality. “I believe after all it’s coming out!” said Miss Stanley. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. All its better points were improved, while the less attractive ones (and they were few in comparison) were subdued, or removed. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage.
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