But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. Our ideal had fallen. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. They reached Wimbledon, and Ramage whipped out to hand Miss Stanley to the platform as though she had been a duchess, and she descended as though such attentions from middle-aged, but still gallant, merchants were a matter of course. Only promise me this.
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