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It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation methods and addresses. " "Jack, my love," cried Mrs. "I lost a very valuable one some time ago. Sheppard, faintly.
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