CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. It was perfectly logical. Lucy inhaled deeply. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. Then she sang. I am your servitor. “I can’t conceive what you want.
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