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. ” “Cooped up!” he cried. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. It also told you how to write on all occasions, how to take out a patent, how to doctor a horse, and who Achates was. Yon must be mine to-night. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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