So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. The room seemed a vacuum. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. Give me the books. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil.
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