Cathy sighed. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. Her eye met his four inches away, and his was glaring, immense, and full of resolution, a stupendous monster of an eye. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake.
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