Softly she rose to her feet. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. . Of course, he had no idea who I was. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. His literary instincts began to stir. Well, this is OUR thing. “I am happy. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears.
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