Imagine any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I'll be toddling along. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. You see, we travelled second class, and we are in the least known quarter of Paris. After all there are other things. S.
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