Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. Suddenly Ah Cum laughed aloud. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. Her voice was weak and flat. "Be it so," replied Jack.
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