“If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. A crisis of some kind was toward. Is there anything you'd like?" "Books.
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