Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. “Glad to see you in London. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy.
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