“Hullo!” Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of content. ‘What a fate he finds for me. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him.
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