At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. The delay was only momentary. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. To divide the agony into two spheres so that one would mitigate the other. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within.
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