’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. .
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