” He greeted her. "I'll have my cot in here," said Spurlock to Ruth, "where this table is. “Life—things—I don’t think her prospects now—Hopeful outlook. And he had good reason before long to congratulate himself on his forbearance. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh.
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