‘You do not know how I am like my mother. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view.
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