The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it.
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