But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. I am entirely English, as you know well. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. “They have just taken this house from Lady Cellender. E.
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