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After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. She shot a sudden glance at him. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. " The Wastrel laughed. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. In short, every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was resorted to by this horde of reprobates to secure themselves from danger or molestation.

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