The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. You only live a block away!” 236 “I’ll do my best. ” His eyes were closed. "So I did," retorted Mrs. She decided to call in the help of Teddy Widgett, or, failing him, of one of his sisters. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile.
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