" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. But no more of that. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. In this state of knowledge you will be horribly, irrevocably, alone. ” “Of how beautiful my children would be?” He finished her sentence. E. co. "Only, what you have done is out of all human calculation. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. ” “There is no one else who has a key to your rooms?” “No one except my maid, who is away in Wiltshire.
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