Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. "He knows he had to take it. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. So the charge was dismissed.
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