” And to that, through vast rhetorical meanderings, she clung. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. “I will tell you something if you like. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. And Leonardo told me never to trust any man.
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