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I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. Relief flooded her. " "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. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. That is very certain. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times. ” She said bitterly.
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