" "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. ” “Yes. Hope you ate light before you got here. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face.
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