” “Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. 47, straightening her hat and waiting for her luggage to appear. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. So the world is choked with waste and waiting daughters. It was hard to meet that gaze. 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.
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