Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. “I was born there. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. He pulled down a chair to her left. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared.
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