“Please stay,” she said briefly. " Here Ruth returned with the broth; and McClintock strode aft, convinced that he was going to have something far more interesting than books to read. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle.
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