‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. “A serious question. You can trust me, Anna. Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. It does not matter to him either way. His tone was rough, almost threatening. . " "Who is he?" asked Thames impatiently. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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