The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. Ann Veronica thought it was a spontaneous release of energy expressive of wellbeing, but Ramage thought that by dancing, men, and such birds and animals as dance, come to feel and think of their bodies. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. "Never—never!" The words were scarcely pronounced, when the door was violently thrown open, and two men appeared at it. “I can’t imagine what has come over you,” said her aunt. “Take me back. There are the packets which my Captain hazarded his life to procure for you, and which he said would establish your right to the estates of the Trenchard family.
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