As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. I’m okay.
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