’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. She dismissed the idea of doing so. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual.
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