He seemed too noisy. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. There it was—to be borrowed. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. Unlocking a cupboard, he then took out some cold meat and other viands, with a flask of wine, and a bottle of brandy, and began to eat and drink voraciously. You'll find me at supper. ‘Alors, now I am also a murderer.
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