For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. 50 \"You might mention her, but don't mention the Prom.
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