"Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth turned away abruptly. “Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. He opened the drawer of the writing table. It slid off flimsily. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground.
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