Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his eyes. Ramage admitted the force of that. . . It tore her apart. “Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. . She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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