She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Bordered by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full view of a delightful and varied prospect. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. ’ Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet.
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