The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. "There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful," she said.
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