She was making it up. CHAPTER XXXII. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. "I thought you were asleep. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. “I say, Vee.
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