The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. You’ve got to take what you can get. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. “I thought we had discussed that, father.
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