For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. “Like a stab. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. ” Presently, as if for comparison with her father’s letter, she got out Ramage’s check from the box that contained her papers. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully.
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