“I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. The new and the old cancelled out; his daughters became quasi-independent dependents—which is absurd. She held out her arms to him and smiled. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed.
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