He was tall, nearly six feet, and from his stature it was clear that he spent some spare time working on his physique. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. YOU did. ” She made some inane response. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. That register would be easy to get at; comforting thought. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. ’ ‘Yes, and leave you to break in on your own.
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