Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. Whatever he did, she was bound to scream. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse to fetch the comb.
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