" "Then you're heartily welcome, Sir, whoever you are. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. She sat perfectly still, however.
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