His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. "You were saying—?" "I started to say something; that is all. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface.
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