Her mouth at half-cock, Melusine stood there staring at him. 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. ” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom.
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