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"All is prepared. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. Over the Lodge, upon a dial was inscribed the appropriate motto, "Venio sicut fur. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames.
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