She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. You should have more. “I should like you to come here,” she said. This door, which was open, Jonathan locked and took out the key. “But your hair,” he gasped. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her.
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