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. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. Too late now. "In the name of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer me," urged Kneebone, "why—why would you not accept him?" "Because our positions are different," replied Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her feelings.
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