It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. ‘I doubt it. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon.
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