‘Say it. . “Thank you—and good-bye. I don’t care. I love some one else. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. ” The men at the reporter’s table lifted their eyebrows, smiled faintly, and leaned back to watch how she took her scolding. " "I shall go mad myself if I listen to her longer," said Jack, attempting to rise.
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