Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. Give me but leave to try. “It is you alone, Nigel, who have saved me from being an old maid. That really settles about that. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane.
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