Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. . If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. ’ The crack in the iron front widened a little, and the general was obliged to clamp his jaws tight against the rise of a pain too well remembered. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time. ‘I have no idea.
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