But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. The boat rocked violently with the struggle. 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. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. She had never had a real doll.
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