Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this. It's my way when I'm ruffled. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. The room was dark and dusty. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. So was I, in fact.
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