She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. Leonardo had told her it would happen, and warned her to make use of it. I'll bet you've been in Hong-Kong these two weeks already, and never a line to me. And think things out. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent.
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