“You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. ” She made some inane response. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. ’ ‘Ah yes. CHAPTER X.
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