There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. Indeed I am! I would make this country a collective monarchy, and all the girls and women in it should be the Queen. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm.
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