Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. Another labyrinth in hell!" A smile broke over the trader's face. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. ” She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. " There was a pause. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers.
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