‘Where was I? Oh yes. “Is it your maid?” he asked. He'd have some fun with that Chinaman before the morning was out. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. If you assume the character of a debtor for your own convenience, you must be content to maintain it for ours.
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