In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. News was sent back home, and in October, Marina traveled to Florence to live with her daughter again. It had a tiny flaw, most bizarre. "Those chops, fried potatoes, and buttered toast. “Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. It is no crime, none at all. “One can talk without undertones, so to speak,” said Ramage. And some were adorned with engravings that struck her as being more vulgar and undesirable than anything she had ever seen in her life. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me.
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