She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. " In the living room Spurlock's glance was constantly drawn toward Ruth; but in fear that she might sense something wrong, he walked over to the piano and struck a few chords.
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