" The Wastrel laughed. . He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon.
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