"I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open.
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