It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. One who steals. "I understand," replied Rowland. She drew her naked arms around herself. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. I just never had anything else fun to do.
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