“Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. "What's all this?" exclaimed Wood in amazement. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. You have grown into my life. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. “Are there others like you?” “Yes.
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