< Page:Stevenson and Quiller-Couch - St Ives .djvu
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15
A TALE OF A LION RAMPANT
the impulse that had made her bring and introduce him, I could not sufficiently admire it. It seemed to me finer than wit, and more tender than a caress. It said (plain as language), "I do not and I cannot know you. Here is my brother—you can know him; this is the way to me—follow it."
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