Gerald shook his head. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. The Supper at Mr. ‘You little fool! I’m a trained soldier with ten years experience at my back. And still you interest yourself in my affairs. Get a license—just an idea of mine.
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