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No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. " "I don't know," said the doctor, dubiously. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it.

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