"I should be perfectly miserable if I thought you in earnest. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. ‘Monstrously unfair of you, Hilary. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Gerald shook his head. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. Gerald swore. Do you know of what I speak?” “I do, I do!” She said. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. “He is not—I don’t like him. "Well, I won't dispute your judgment in such matters, Mr. " Three persons only were left in the room.
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