"Why do you laugh?" he asked. What news. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested.
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