That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. “If I am to turn you into a vampire, she cannot know. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity.
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