"I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. The annihilation of the Terror which fascinated her and troubled her dreams o' nights. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. She declined and finished with a few of her favorite excerpts from Scheherazade. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was.
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