It'll be advertised to-morrow. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. She met him by the dugout after the game. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then.
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