Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room.
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