It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. 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. So far, however, was this submission from producing the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional fuel to her displeasure. There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt. “I was sent for to go to the Hospital St. “I will put the question,” Drummond said gravely. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage.
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