They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. ” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. That was the true marvel of it. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room.
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