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Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. And why, after all, should she not borrow money from Ramage? It was so true what he said; middle-class people WERE ridiculously squeamish about money. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. Your life is like a funeral March.
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