The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. 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. Wood laughed louder than ever. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her.
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