’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. ” Lucy answered, disturbed at how rehearsed the apology sounded. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered.
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