To fall upon those tales for the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young! He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. 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. You’ll need that. —'How so?' says I. “Child!” he cried. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. As they 56 approached the manor, she was permitted to peep her head outside the chariot's front window. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. Lost ground must be regained.
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