" "Why, my love," rejoined her husband, "appearances, you must allow, were a little against you. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. 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. Now, Sir. I only arrived when everybody was coming away. She kept her face downcast. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. There was a gentle rustling of skirts.
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