He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. Manning. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out.
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