Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. ‘I was not born to this. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. “I’m not so sure.
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