She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. It melted her heart. Last night there had been no time. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. Stanley. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face.
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