" Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. That is very certain. Eh bien, she must use her tongue against him.
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