She winked at him as he shut the door. The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. ” Ramage reflected. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said.
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