" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure.
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