He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. Earles,” she exclaimed. But what if she were to marry? He glanced towards the elderly dame and found her watching him, the dimple very much in evidence. Jerking forward, she jabbed backwards. The individual twist was always there, even in the cleverest forgeries. It added to the picturesqueness of the Sha-mien night to observe these gaily coloured lanterns dancing hither and yon like June fireflies in a meadow.
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