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” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. ’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. . ” “Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently. . And in its way it was very well. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door.
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