Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. . 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. “If any one should know——you should! He was your friend. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. But one must disguise oneself. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr.
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