‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. "Could you get any of the music last night?" "Yes. Just because she was sorry for that young fool! "Uh-huh," he repeated, rising and bowing as he passed Ruth's table. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol.
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