He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. Lost me place, that’s all.
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