Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. ’ ‘Don’t call me by name,’ she snapped. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again.
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