She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. He was always in a state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure.
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