Drink for him had a queer phase. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. CHAPTER I. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. The word of a Chinaman; he had given it, so he must abide. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. The customary gold band was missing; but a soft gold Chinese ring Spurlock had picked up in Singapore—the characters representing good luck and prosperity—was slipped over Ruth's third finger. ’ Gerald tutted. We WERE thieves.
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