"Where is he?" he cried. But her heart kept on sinking. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. After all, that was life. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. Disappointment flickered in Gerald’s chest, and he did not hesitate to speak his mind, unable to help a reproachful note. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. But this is a great lark, Ann Veronica! This turns life into a glorious adventure!” “Ah!” she cried in triumph.
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