"Not as I loved mine. Which is the nearest way to the river?" "Why, it's an awkward road to direct you," returned Jonathan. “Eight, Cavendish Square. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. He could not kiss Ruth. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter.
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