Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. You might even tire of me by then, you know. " "He couldn't help it, Ruth. ” “I grant you absolution. ” He slipped off the horse. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. He's the only native I trust in these parts. He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected.
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