"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. And Suzanne, even that she has behaved to me not at all like a mother, would also not have said. 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. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked.
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