He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ” “Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me have your key, and I will go up and explore. You might even tire of me by then, you know. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. “It was inevitable,” he declared. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up.
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