“This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. He knocked at the door. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. Gina, the eleven year old, just couldn’t take it and she ran away. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. For it was not a good thing to like one man too much when one was going to marry another. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. " "All right.
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