The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. " "You're not deceiving me!" said Thames, doubtfully. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr.
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