From a man, who was standing beneath the shade of one these noble trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had ridden along the Harrow Road. “It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. “Bother it all!” she swore. ‘Don’t dare address me by such a title. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target.
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