9. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. There was no mistaking his intentions this time. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. Drawing his hanger he rode amongst the crowd, trampled upon those most in advance, and made an attempt to seize their leader, in whom he recognised Blueskin. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. She didn’t choose her man. 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. “What?” He replied.
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