It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. Mrs. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. They walked two by two to the car, looking the part of 267 two weary spouses supporting their drunken mates after an all-night bender. .
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