“You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. And in the Avenue she had an encounter with Ramage. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. Ralph.
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