On Thursday we embark for South America. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. Not all of us, but some of us. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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