They had cried a little, both. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. In the afternoon she had considered certain doubts very carefully, and decided on a more emphatic course of action. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. She opened the door to him herself.
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