He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe. You saw him? You have been to Remenham House?’ ‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. 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.
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