And, in addition, she was now seeing and talking to Ramage almost weekly, on a theory which she took very gravely, that they were exceptionally friends. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. ” She said. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. ” He asked questions and listened to her views for a time. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. I love.
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