Here one might live the life of golden days. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. You will have to tell me. Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished.
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