He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. CHAPTER XXIII. Rituals instead of medicines. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. I didn't understand then, but I do now. McClintock sent his yacht over for us this morning.
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