" Gently she thrust Ruth aside. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly.
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