’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. I have been insulted, and cursed at, and threatened with both pistol and dagger. They had cried a little, both. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. “Do come and cheer me up.
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