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Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. ” Ann Veronica walked as he indicated. ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. Idiote. “Four,” Anna decided firmly. A bad man, in fact.
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