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Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. Mr. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. “Thank you—and good-bye. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment.
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