” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. But the Ramage affair needed clearing up, of course; it was a flaw upon that project. "Now, let's see who'll dare to take him down," she cried. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. “I don’t know why. She deserves what has befallen her. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage.
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