Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. ‘That’s a loud one.
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