Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. He would know the truth then once and for all. Ramage demurred. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight.
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