Part 5 The next morning she waited in the laboratory at the lunch-hour in the reasonable certainty that he would come to her. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. “He’s quite the inventor.
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