“He has said something of the sort. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. You're on the way to big things. She’d have thrown this thing if you hadn’t stopped her. “She seems an unusually clever girl,” said Ramage.
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