“Why not? It might amuse me. " "Don't say so," cried Mrs. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. Stanley went on, “but there are things— there are stories about Ramage. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. She liked to cook even though normal food was not nourishing to her. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. Her pulses began to race.
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