You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. The ruffian's companions took his part. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing.
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