If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. She spotted her opportunity. . "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. . She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room.
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