’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. 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. . The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. ’ ‘Please forgive, milor’, but my wife, and even I myself, have yet very much trouble with English.
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