Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. He was profoundly stirred. A Madame Valade and her husband. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica.
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