She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. Sheppard. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell.
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