" "Ay, but he will. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. Ramage talked always about women or some woman’s concern, and very much about Ann Veronica’s own outlook upon life. But the figure was evidently too intent on peering within the ballroom to pay any attention to what might be occurring outside. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. And her mother, looking unusually alert and hectic, wore cream and brown also, made up in a more complicated manner. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue.
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