And this utter stranger … loved him! He had no reason to doubt McClintock's statement; the Scot had solved the riddle why Ruth Enschede had married Howard Spurlock. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. She obeyed, extending her arm. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. “Oh good. “I wouldn’t. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. So they fenced with smiles. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last.
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