" "Then I owe my life to her?" "Positively. They reached Wimbledon, and Ramage whipped out to hand Miss Stanley to the platform as though she had been a duchess, and she descended as though such attentions from middle-aged, but still gallant, merchants were a matter of course. " There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. She rose to the fire to stoke it. “Let’s go home.
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