’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. I never want you to be ashamed of me. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. ” “Of course not,” said Ramage, as one who rouses himself from deep preoccupations And he began to question her in a business-like way upon the steps she had taken and the inquiries she had made. " "Death and the devil! what a cursed interruption!" cried Jack, impatiently.
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