But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. Your glove will suffice.
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