Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool.
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