Wood; "I'll not bear it. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide. He drew a little breath and stepped back. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. 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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