“I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand.
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