All her pride raged at me. Now go. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. But she has let fall enough for me to understand that she knows about her father’s misdeeds. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. And why, after all, should she not borrow money from Ramage? It was so true what he said; middle-class people WERE ridiculously squeamish about money.
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