. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. .
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