CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines. " He smiled at her as he smiled at death, cheerfully. " "Advanced them rather," replied Gay, in the same tone. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him.
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