Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls.
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