‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. “Now listen. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Stanley in person. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. You couldn’t help it.
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