But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. "Your sympathy is being wasted.
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