She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. He walked unsteadily towards the door. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. " "That's right," replied Wild, with a ghastly smile. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. " Blueskin nodded, and left the room. "I rather fancy, as you Britishers say, that you know the nature of my visit?" "I'm an American. I’m glad you could come.
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