” She smiled at the thought. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. He was staring at her, openly gaping. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. Ruth will be a gold mine for a man of your peculiar bent.
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