At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. ‘You won’t get a thing out of her. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. Ramage demurred. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance.
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