” She stopped short. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. Small blame to her. Sorry to be so nosy.
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