” Ramage looked at her, and then fell into deep reflection as the waiter came to paragraph their talk again. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ‘And take you this sword. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed.
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