Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. He stepped quickly towards her. I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort.
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