‘It will suit me very well that you go away, because you are a person without sense and I do not wish to talk to you. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. Ramage back his forty pounds. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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