How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. " Ruth turned back toward the stairs. Her back arched slightly in response. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap.
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