Drink for him had a queer phase. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Mr. . I love you—unendurably. But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering.
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