They almost made me feel like they were mine. ” She covered her face with her hands. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. . " "I wish I could have foreseen. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. "She is my lawful wife.
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