" "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. ‘A convenient desire, Mademoiselle Charvill. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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