A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home. "Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. .
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