She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. “You will have some tea?” she asked. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. " "You talk boldly," replied Wild. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. 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. She had braved all obstacles to pursue her dream. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being.
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