A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. ” “Thank you,” Anna answered coldly. An ancient smile lay on his lips. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. “It’s very good,” she said. "What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends.
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