Wood, I forget nothing. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration.
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