Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. He—wanted to marry me. ‘En tout cas, I have waiting for me a cavalier. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief.
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