He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Then he put the paper by. "You won't refuse it, Mr. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. But I can give it its name now. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately.
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