” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly.
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