’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. After much clapping, they started. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly.
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