Spurlock snatched the check out of Ruth's hands and ran to the window. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. By this time, Jonathan and the vast mob attending him, had come up, and the place was rendered almost as light as day by the links.
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