Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. " "You hear that," whispered Jack. She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. “I got your note just in time,” he remarked. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night. "He will kill me," cried Thames. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said.
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