’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. "Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee.
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