Gentlemen,—Mr. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this. “Come sit with me, beautiful. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter. . Sheppard, eagerly. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude.
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