There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. . ” “There are some French customs,” he declared, “which are admirable. You are infatuated. .
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