" "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains.
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