“Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. ” Dessert was served. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them.
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