“Forgive you, indeed. He would go there. His brows drew a little nearer together. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. " "You're agitating yourself unnecessarily, Joan," returned Wood, in a soothing voice. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully.
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