There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. "I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," continued Sheppard, again raising the pistol. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. Stanley?” “I’ve fallen out with my father. " Spurlock obeyed mechanically. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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