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Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock. " "Won't you take me?" "No; you must await my return here.
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