CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. She tore open the envelope and read it. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle.
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