She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. "She has no secrets from me. Her parents have more money than God. He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read the agreement through to her. " "You mustn't talk. There is the election——” He laughed derisively. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced.
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