The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg.
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