He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Your time isn't come yet. I have a special interest in Mary Remenham because I believe I have discovered her daughter.
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