“All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. He would be so disappointed. Sheppard, with a vehemence that shook even the hardened wretch beside her, "begone, and tempt me not. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple.
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