CHAPTER XXVII. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. . She was very pretty. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner.
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