’ Her eyes narrowed. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. 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.
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