It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. ’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again. . Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows.
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