Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him God-speed and good luck. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. “We’ll go together. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. “One hardly knows—all the time. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon.
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