But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. ” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned.
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