“Steady on!” he cried. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. What I do know I shall have no hesitation in telling anyone who has the right to ask. "A storm!" exclaimed the landlord. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment.
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