McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. This way, Sir Rowland. 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. Petals!. ” “But why——” Sir John stopped short.
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