Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. I’ve wanted you—always. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can.
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