Sepulchre's church was covered—so was the tower. Wood's. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. ‘Then we will beg. “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. “But how can you?” asked Constance. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing.
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