When I went I was refused admittance. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. . But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do.
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