” “There’s plenty of time,” said Ramage. I'm no mollycoddle. His vicious abusiveness vanished. She parted the curtains to find him standing there. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. Spurlock bent his head to the rail.
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