” “Was he divorced, do you mean?” “No, but he got himself mixed up in a divorce case. “Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Another picture slid across her vision.
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