‘Where was I? Oh yes. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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