"For me—his master, Mr. " "Ah! Sometimes I wonder I don't run amok and kill someone," said the Wastrel, in broken English. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. "Leave him to me," he said. I stole away and walked to the railway station.
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