If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose.
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