They reached Wimbledon, and Ramage whipped out to hand Miss Stanley to the platform as though she had been a duchess, and she descended as though such attentions from middle-aged, but still gallant, merchants were a matter of course. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. "Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin.
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