” Lucy replied. “I wonder which of us is right,” she said. “Goodnight. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. . Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. I thought that he was dead. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
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