She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked. She exited solemnly, retrieving and carrying Michelle’s unconscious figure into the forest like a reluctant bridegroom. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. He looked melancholy enough, it is true.
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