Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. 1. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. You can have no shecrets from me. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered.
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