’ Her eyes narrowed. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. Why are you so anxious?" "Oh, if you can't see your way…. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her.
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