She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. Her unnatural calm was giving way. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. The horns were the worst, slipping in and out of tune and rushing the easy sections, fighting everyone else. ’ Her eyes narrowed. 54 \"Yes?\" \"No one says 'Oh my word' anymore. To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress.
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