1. John stared palely. Ruth was something to study for future copy; she was almost unbelievable. "Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means. "Oh, yes!—for always!" He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in this attitude they remained for some time. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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