“Go on,” he said. " That was true, thought Spurlock. The bridesmaids and pages got rather jumbled in the aisle, and she had an effect of Alice’s white back and sloping shoulders and veiled head receding toward the altar. We will find some way out of it. ‘Let her go. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within.
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