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And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. The fates are never so kind to me. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us.
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