Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. It was a moment before he recognised that the effect had been similar on all those present, including General Lord Charvill. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. It was a long walk she had to undertake, even if she had endured no previous fatigue, but feeble as she was, it was almost more than she could accomplish.
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