. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. " "Are you Mr. " The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson.
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