The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. " "Ay, ay," cried the jailers, laughing. ‘You will release me at once, imbecile. I said intensity of perception. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous.
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