"How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Did he act to you that day as if he knew what he was doing?" "Not all of the time. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. “Beasts!” But Miss Miniver took no notice of his admission. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. I had rather have trouble and hardship like that than be taken care of by others. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back.
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