You must forgive the poet’s license I take. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. ‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. At least—’ ‘Don’t be more of a lunatic than you can help,’ broke in the captain, addressing himself to Melusine. . I did what I could to comfort her but she died in terrible pain.
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