She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. They had refused. The huge, newly remodeled brick house was crammed full of people reeking of beer, vodka, and tequila. His mouth was sensuous but his eyes became frenetic. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested.
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