The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. "Search him and iron him afresh;" commanded Jonathan. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum.
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