The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. . I—well, I lost my temper. "I can't help thinking of Jack Sheppard's speech to Mr. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. But her heart kept on sinking.
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