That was what she was trying to make him understand. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. ’ ‘Dear me.
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