Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered.
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