“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. In another instant, the collision took place. ’ She set down her glass with a snap. . For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. She looked in the rear-view mirror. And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. There’s no logic in these things.
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