“We are clerks in the same bank. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. It slid off flimsily.
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