She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. I have suspected him of possessing a skeleton key to my apartments.
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