” Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes. “I wrote it for you. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. By the by, Mr. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving.
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