The crowd began to separate as it fell into the theater. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front.
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