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. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St. Capes. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull.
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