"Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. " Ruth's eyes began to glow. You know all this stuff is insured. He had thought it might have that effect. " Carefully depositing Winifred on a sofa, Jack then extinguished the light, and, as he unfastened the door, crept behind it. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride.
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