Are you all here?” “Five boxes full,” she answered. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. ‘Dear me. ” She passed out without reply. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters.
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