Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in the rocks. He remembered it suddenly. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy.
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