Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. A very small settlement, mostly natives. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. My wife doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand now. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less.
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