Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. \" Now it was Michelle’s turn to laugh. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside. “My wife. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating.
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