’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. I always say that it’s poverty before everything that makes a girl skip the line. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. " "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you.
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