\" He leaned at a steeper pitch. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. " "That is your fault, none of mine. Everything. net Transcribers Note: Obvious typesetter errors from the original corrected in this etext.
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