He woke up with a start and the alarm clock read 4:46 P. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction.
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