As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. " "Man, in God's name, come with me and tell her this!" urged Spurlock.
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