He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. “No,” she answered. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. ‘Quite mad, nuns are. "How?" cried her brother, starting.
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