“His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. But she did not speak. ’ ‘Yes, that rather leapt to the eye,’ Gerald said, and the faint smile sent a lick of warmth down inside her. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. As he anticipated, he was here comparatively screened from the fury of the wind; and when he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible through the darkness in a glistening sheet of foam, his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential deliverance. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. Still, they bob up occasionally. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows.
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