“MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out.
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