He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. ” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench.
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