His glasses were gone. ‘Laisse-moi. “Don’t you care for Mr. 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. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. She's not for pleasure, but for work. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. Besides ——” She stopped short. It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother.
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