It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. CHAPTER XXXII. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. "O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess.
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