She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. “Very well,” she would say, “then I must go. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. " "A capital caricature that," remarked Thornhill, laughing. He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished.
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