The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. Set the boy free. ‘It is nothing. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. Rummage, my boy, do. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. . " "In what way, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, in astonishment.
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