Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. It never has had. We’ll make short work of them. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. That is why I am here. ’ ‘How dare you?’ roared the general.
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