She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. Mr. Squire and master. The Old Mint III. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before.
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