She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. Clarice was from Lombardy, fair-haired and light skinned. “I will not have this slavery,” she said. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted.
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