Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. But this was important. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. " "Oh, I see. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it.
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