She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss.
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