One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. ” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. Mr. He had already shown the covering envelope and its instructions to Ruth, and she had ignored or misunderstood the warning. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. “I am just back from Paris.
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