" "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. " He offered cigars, and Ruth got up.
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