CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient's throat. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend.
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