She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. .
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