She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. “She will take her risk,” she answered. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. You must have figured that out by now. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. ’ ‘Of Leonardo? Yes, I will tell you.
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