Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. But I found it no laughing matter, I can assure you. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more.
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