” She stopped. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. The room seemed a vacuum. . You've caught the colour and the life. “But how can you?” asked Constance. ” “It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that you are subject to this sort of thing.
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