Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. Spurlock snatched the check out of Ruth's hands and ran to the window. You have to see her to understand. And Mrs. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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