Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. The rest of his attire was nondescript. Marriage was a taboo subject between them. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement.
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