Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. You have betrayed me. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness. "I'm sorry," she said. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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