She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. She pitted aspirants against each other in any way imaginable, with tests of science, math, and sometimes will alone. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. You have nothing more to fear from Wild.
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