Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. " "But I never saw anybody more alive. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. It has been purchased by blood!" "What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag.
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