A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. “No reason. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. She shut the door behind her. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack.
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