"Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. I don't believe he is much past forty. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place.
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