’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. “Well, hello there. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. ” She shook her head gently. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. There was no rush. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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