"The key," replied the widow. ‘Here we go again. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone. “I wonder what he will do?” She tried to imagine situations that might arise out of Ramage’s antagonism, for he had been so bitter and savage that she could not believe that he would leave things as they were.
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