See paragraph 1. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Ramage, speaking the simplest first thought of his heart. I have had no one but for you.
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