“Damn”. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. 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. I believed that our marriage was genuine.
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