" "Ah, yes; that coat. He knew she had been weeping. I speak no harm of her. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. Give me your hand.
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