“I expected you this morning,” he said. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. Maggot tenderly. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. He carried a small bag. The shock and distress were genuine. Ramage did not know.
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