‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. A remittance man. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it.
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