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. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. The cage has a strong door, with an iron grating at the top, and further secured by a stout bolt and padlock. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. ” He waved the gun at Lucy who stepped back.
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