It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. “I am going through the other rooms. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy.
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