None at all. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. Divide the money between you, and wear the ornaments for my sake. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. And still you interest yourself in my affairs. Lucy and Mike watched the exchange of high school Spanish with feigned interest. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. “What happened then?” Michelle asked fearfully.
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