Enschede halted. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. Think! You could not have done it. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. ” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. I——” The door was thrown open. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses.
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