Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. Had he but known it, his outburst had done him no harm in the major’s eyes. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly.
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