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“I shot him. You cannot draw. ” He took up his hat. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. “You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a little oversharpened.
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