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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"


He returned a few minutes after Dick's arrival, his eyes gleaming with
a light they had never seen in them before. His voice trembled with an
exaltation that would have betrayed him to even less observing people
than these.
"Sit down, Jacky," said Joey, putting down his mug of beer on the
window sill. "I understand you've met Dick to-night afore this. Well,
he's got something important to tell you--and all of us, for that
matter."
David, in no little wonder and apprehension, tossed his hat on the bed
and sat down upon its edge. Ruby was sitting at the little table in
the center of the room, her elbows upon it, her chin in her hands. She
was gazing fixedly at the nonchalant outsider who leaned back in the
only rocking-chair and puffed at his pipe. He had declined the mug of
beer that had been tendered by the opulent Joey.
A big, greasy kerosene lamp hung from the ceiling almost directly
above Ruby's head. She had removed her hat. Her hair gleamed black in
the glow from above. Casey sprawled ungracefully on a couch near by.
"I've seen that precious uncle of yours," announced Dick, in his most
_degage_ manner.


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