She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. “How did you find me?” He asked. "He hash eshcaped!" cried the Jew. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone.
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