Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. But sadly, at Lullingstone we are too far off the coast to be of use. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding.
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