Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. He could not move; but stood like one stupified, with his hands clasped together, and eyes almost starting out of their sockets, fixed upon his unfortunate parent. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. I think that I will tell you. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do.
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