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“You are in trouble,” he said. She laughed. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question.
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