She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. She rose at once with a little exclamation, half of surprise, half of pleasure. He did his best not to grin.
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