‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. Something drew you. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. I get along with my Mom sometimes, Lucy. Huge trees obscured the view of it. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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