He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. “Number 13, please, cabman.
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