" "Are you ready?" said Trenchard, striding towards the door. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances.
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