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"And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. Wood hadn't struck me. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary.
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