’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout. She took up a book and threw it down again. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. The Pursuit. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack.
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