Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. . In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. ‘I knew you would be furious. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately.
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