" He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. “I’ll be here at one in the morning.
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