‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. I want you. They are not your flowers. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. " Out of the beaten track! thought Spurlock. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse.
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