” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not.
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