She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. The latch had not fully caught. We know London, and you are a stranger here. ‘Parbleu, but what a person you make me! One who spies.
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