“No, no,” she cried. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again.
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