As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Go to it. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone.
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