"I yield to fate. " "Let me go," implored Mrs. " There was a pause. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. Then pain entered their depths. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets.
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