“Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. Greece was a different place. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. “But—your people!” she gasped. “Dear John,” she whispered. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. The Chapel was situated in the south-east angle of the jail; the ordinary at the time of this history being the Reverend Thomas Purney; the deputy chaplain, Mr.
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