"If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. Hers were less noble, yet stately. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. I'll send you word when I catch him. ‘But that will do for a start.
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