The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. There was a hint of tears in her voice. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof.
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