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. . She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. ” “Mary, please don’t cry. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly.
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