"Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. ” Their eyes met for a moment. After Gwen!” “I sent a telegram. Been in the wars with both the major and Capting Roding, I have,’ Trodger informed her loftily.
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