Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. ’ ‘Exactly so. It has been a big night. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet.
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