” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. After all, she was a consummate actress. She glanced into his face. "Put it under my pillow," he said. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. This child was frequently disconcerting. He must be gone to dispose of the body. But this is not sufficient.
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