She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. Ramage—about the forty pounds. ” “Wait,” she said. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. ‘Let’s see now. She was silent. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. " "Leave us together, my good woman," said Jack, putting a guinea into her hand. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation.
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