Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. ” “I grant you absolution. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered.
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