“I want to ask you a question,” he said. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible.
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