" So saying, she planted herself between Jack and the turnkey. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak.
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