After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again. I shan't let you off a farthing. ‘If he had, he’d have found the sword, see. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him. I have a few regular patients, and I take care of them in the morning. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound.
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