’ ‘She’s as clothheaded as you,’ Roding retorted, but he slipped an arm about the lady’s waist and gave her a quick squeeze. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. The movement was fatal to her son. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. So get up, and let's be off. I take it, down where we're going will be nothing new to you. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case.
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