One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him.
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