And, in addition, she was now seeing and talking to Ramage almost weekly, on a theory which she took very gravely, that they were exceptionally friends. It slipped out—as did that “she”. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck.
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