" "I wish I could return the compliment, Terry. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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