"She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. "It's a mercy you both escaped!" ejaculated Wood, only just finding his tongue. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. I won’t even ask.
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