You know—I worship you. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. What had Brewis Charvill to say to that, Gerald?’ ‘He had nothing to say to it. She leaned a little towards him. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll.
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