By George, I forgot! McClintock said there was a typewriter in the office and that I could have it. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Mr.
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