" At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. 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. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels.
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