She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. She could not say who, not yet. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. We have to hang about in the interval.
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