The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. ” Her father’s irony deepened. I don’t care. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. Wood's. Heard of your last escape. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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