‘I must get a handkerchief. Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her. ‘They eloped. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden.
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