It had ceased to beat. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you.
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