At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. “It may be her salvation. I don’t want to bother you, of course.
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