“Look round the table,” she said. The walls were of immense thickness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed; the fire-place was without a grate; and a barrack-bed, divided into two compartments, occupied one corner. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station.
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