Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. Other girls gathered around like sheep. “It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. “I want a plain word with you about all this.
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