Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. No! not even the derivation! But the fashion’s been set and in it you must be. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. " "In what way, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, in astonishment. But never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of bread-fruit toward him. A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it. "Will he live?" asked Ruth. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts.
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