How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips.
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