But the Ramage affair needed clearing up, of course; it was a flaw upon that project. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. "No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he would have merited his fate. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads.
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