In the presence of the husband of his mistress Rollo was always dignifiedly cheerful, but he never leaped or cavorted as he did when alone with Ruth. Not at all. It was clear it must be to-morrow. For a long time neither spoke again. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. ’ ‘Not French?’ echoed Hilary.
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