In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. And don't worry about the six thousand, Hoddy. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child.
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