The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. "No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. “That he should be in the same world with me!” said Ann Veronica, reduced to reading the list of good things the British Tea-Table Company had priced for its patrons.
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