” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further.
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