Suddenly he felt Ruth swing violently away from him, and he wheeled to learn the cause. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. The Master of the Mint. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. Wood. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival.
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