And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. . . She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. "Perhaps he means well. It’s gone. Best assured of that.
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