He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. , and go home before you have to. The Magdalene. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. There was a case, or something, some years ago. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too.
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