” He crossed himself and grinned. “This ain’t no place for you. Marry me. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. “I wonder,” said Ramage, “that more girls don’t think as you do and want to strike out in the world. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield.
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