She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. . Without Jack, it was certain that she faced danger if she went outside Golden Square. " "You are very kind, Sir," returned the widow, "but I require no support.
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