As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. ‘Least of all, one who takes advantage of another’s misfortune. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now.
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