” “You are separated from your wife?” “Yes, but do you know how?” “Not exactly. You cannot care for her. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. ‘You’re right. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am.
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