’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. As a rule their comings and goings were discussed with perfect confidence, but on this occasion they both felt that there was intent in her silence as to her destination. " The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. Wood,—"he'll never mend.
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