In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. "But I like Bobby Burns best. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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