The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. Michelle stood perplexed. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. She laughed. . The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep.
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