” “Thanks, honey. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. For it was not a good thing to like one man too much when one was going to marry another. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so.
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