At this moment, a coach passed them, and was instantly hailed by Thames. Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Michelle was only a junior, the same year as herself. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master.
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