You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose. His frowning gaze came back to her. " "Oh!" Ruth laughed softly. Grudgingly he admired her. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face.
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