" "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. "I will be there at the time. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for.
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