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It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. ” She stopped with an air of interrogation. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse.
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