’ The fury welled. Everything in the world to live for!—fame that he could not reap, love that he must not take! What was all this pother about hell as a future state? By and by things began to stir on the table: little invisible things. . ‘Come,’ she called. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly.
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