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 *moil of excitement, and her hair, rising in a wave of gold from her forehead and clustering low upon her neck in thick strands, outshone the sunlight.

Miles reached her side unheard and unseen, and paused there with a sudden little gasp for breath. Her beauty assailed him with almost a physical shock, and for a moment, as his eyes dwelt on the oval cheek with its creamy flush, on the scarcely parted lips, on the little ear shadowed in golden twilight, his heart performed strange antics. And when he spoke his voice fluttered absurdly.

"You are early this morning," he said.

She turned with a swift glance—that and no more—and bent again to her canvas.