"England or France, London or Paris, it's all one to me, so I've you to command me. I’ll need you to go back to the barracks and fetch more men up to town. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. An uncomfortable silence followed. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains.
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