Naturally it all came out then. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. She addressed an envelope to Ramage, and scrawled on a half-sheet of paper, “The rest shall follow. “My God!” he said again. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap.
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