Our quarrel's quite over. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. Why do you not go away?’ ‘Yes, do go away,’ begged Gerald. ‘I doubt it. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets.
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