CHAPTER XVII. I bring you tidings of an old friend. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. "Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. And it is not at all his affair. You’re a little late, you must remember, and we are punctual people here. ’ ‘Do you care to test that theory?’ Gerald suggested easily.
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