The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. ’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her. The Matriarchate! The Lords of Creation just ran about and did what they were told. "After him," cried Wild; "he mustn't escape. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus.
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