She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. Just because she was sorry for that young fool! "Uh-huh," he repeated, rising and bowing as he passed Ruth's table.
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