"I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. That’s where you go wrong. Without her, it was lonely. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. It was my destiny to have her. ” She nodded.
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