“I wonder what he will do?” She tried to imagine situations that might arise out of Ramage’s antagonism, for he had been so bitter and savage that she could not believe that he would leave things as they were. His face was white. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. Pramlay lived for amenities and the mellowed surfaces of things. ‘I assure you it suits her as Mary would not. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of.
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