“Ritter’s!” said Ramage to the driver, “Dean Street. Leonardo was to me nothing at all. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. ‘But―but how can he know?’ His soldier’s instinct overtook Gerald and he dropped all his insouciance in a bang, becoming brisk. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me.
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