"Leave him to me," he said. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. I was certain of it. “He dissembles,” he said. Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished. She was discussing one of those modern advanced plays with a remarkable, with an extraordinary, confidence. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess.
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