The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. His face brightened at the sight of her, and he came toward her. “Let me see,” he said. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr.
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