“But a boy—a boy goes out into the world and presently stands on his own feet. Ruth came to him directly. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. “No,” she answered, reluctantly. “Ferringhall, were you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes with—la petite Pellissier?” Now indeed Sir John was moved.
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