” “There’s plenty of time,” said Ramage. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. Buck up. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. After he had endured this torture for an hour, at a sign from Wild another hundred weight was added.
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