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"Remember!" cried Quilt, as he forced the captive along. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered.
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