“Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses. 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. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically.
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