"They imagine their work is done. Stanley almost liked Ramage. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money.
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