“I don’t care a rap for remembering. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. ’ Melusine had to bite her lip to stop herself from interfering as, under Trodger’s direction, the two militiamen gave up their muskets into his keeping and lifted Jack.
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