And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. To them all I am nothing. That is all I ask. The room was dark and dusty. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth.
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