He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. He kissed her cheek. " "Pshaw!" said Wild. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. Poor little one. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. ” “I didn’t mind that little argument. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. What are you going to tell me?" "Nothing. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question.
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