The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. She was going through with that, anyhow. ’ He could just see the glare. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. "I know you'll not deceive me. I suppose this is what she learns in her infernal London colleges.
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