So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. “Dear John,” she whispered. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. " "Puppy-love. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. He allowed his irons and clothes to be taken off without resistance. . The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished.
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