"Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. I will confide it to Father Spencer, who will acquaint you with it when I am no more. She winked at him as he shut the door. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back.
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