Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. His frowning gaze came back to her. “You know what? You’re right. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. Once in, the constable's manner appeared totally changed. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. But she veiled her feelings. And you will.
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