Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival.
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