No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. You wish another name? Eh bien. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. Understand me. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire.
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