"Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. To his intense satisfaction, Melusine bit her lip on a tremor. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much.
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