"Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. She took hand cannon and began to arm it. “You’ve got to take the decent reasonable way. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay.
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