The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. He held in his hands many threads. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. He pushed her small hand into his jeans. Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage certificate. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. It was a moment before he recognised that the effect had been similar on all those present, including General Lord Charvill. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage.
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