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His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. Will you let me go out of this room?” “No,” cried Ramage; “hear me out! I’ll have that satisfaction, anyhow.
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