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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. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the odour of drugs. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. He further gave the name and address of the firm from whom he purchased the revolver and cartridges, a member of which firm has since corroborated his statement. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 00:08:46