A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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