Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. You have spoken her name, I think, Marthe. They concern us all. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede.
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