Ruth Enschede, Hartford, Conn. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. "I'll find you out. She pawed at him, her hunger for his body making her dizzy with anticipation. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. Thus, the same system of plunder was everywhere carried on. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating.
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