"Heed her not. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal.
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