He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. I want to leave it for ever. I’m sorry Lucy.
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