She seemed honestly glad to see him. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. I—I hurt myself. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture.
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