"Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude.
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