Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard.
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