‘C’est ridicule. ” “Why should I? I have told you that I do not wish for acquaintances in London. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. " "That's the way it goes.
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