He was damned if he knew what to do. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. “GOOD CATCH, ALBERT!” A husky girl had bayed as she witnessed the puck’s abrupt flight. “Well?” she said. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. It comforts him when he is most forlorn.
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