It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. “It’s very late. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. "Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. "Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them. Steps to aid the descent, which was too steep to be safe without them, led to, a door on the opposite side.
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