CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. ‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. God help me. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines. But I’m generously ignorant of gems. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded.
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