" She kindled with sympathy. When Sheila was in a good mood, one almost enjoyed her. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. And Ramage too—about Ramage there would always be that air of avidity, that air of knowledge and inquiry, the mixture of things in his talk that were rather good with things that were rather poor. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them.
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