She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. "It is open," replied the lady, rushing towards it, and springing through the outlet. Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles.
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