Those awful chairs!" After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. " "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. . " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. You had better go to bed. The stranger turned his head at the sound. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. Ruth went on to explain. I didn’t betray you, I swear I didn’t. After class his routine was unchanged.
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