Hugging him in the beautiful dress in front of the teenagers was strangely soothing to her. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. She seemed honestly glad to see him. I didn't understand then, but I do now. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position.
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