" He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. ‘It must have been so, Melusine, or I wouldn’t have kissed you. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily.
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