But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. Youth! You denied me even that," said Ruth, her glance now flashing to her father. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. “You have the temperament,” he said.
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