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At the white-painted door with its shining brass eagle knocker he made Bistre understand that he was to remain outside, and then demanded admittance. It was Miss Veridian that answered his knock; or it may have been Miss Anamite; Miles refused to commit himself. He addressed her as "Miss Ruggles" in quite his most winning manner, said he'd dropped in to beg a cup of the nectar which they dispensed under the name of tea, and in a moment found himself, divested of rain-coat and cap, in the little old-fashioned parlor. The Misses Ruggles were manifestly pleased and flattered. Miss Anamite—or it may have been Miss Veridian—fluttered feverishly to the tea-table, in spite of the fact that it was but three o'clock, and fluttered quite as feverishly out of the room bearing the gleaming kettle.