So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. Borne in the arms of a couple of assistants, and preceded by Mrs. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. “It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. Mrs.
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