Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. To reach the door they had to pass the end of the table, and behind the chair where Mr. . "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome. But Blueskin found it impossible to make off,—at least with the spoil,—Mrs. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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