You understand me, Charcoal. You must have figured that out by now. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never.
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