She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels.
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