"If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. Or else he was indeed obsessed. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle.
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