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She opened this and scrambled out—a thing she had not done for five long years of adolescence— upon the leaded space above the built-out bath-room on the first floor. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. She shook her head. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. I wanted to have something to give up. I'm no mollycoddle. Here he was hotly pursued.
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