"Now, lead me to a hotel where I can get breakfast. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same thick legs. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. CHAPTER XXI. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. ’ He bowed. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters.
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