” “You weren’t rude,” she said. His car was there. I wonder if he really wants me to go home. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. ‘Alors, I see it. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess.
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