"Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. Wood the carpenter. I’m sorry. His deduction was correct that the beauty of Ruth Enschede could not remain hidden long even on a forgotten isle.
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