It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. ” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone. His food lay untouched about his plate. I have been imaging—” “Mr. This is my friend, Mr. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit.
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