There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. All in a moment. Non. As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to everybody throughout the whole of the meal—tonight he was almost silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts.
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