What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. Stanley wanted to object strongly, but as he could not immediately think how to put it, he contented himself with a grunt, and the motion was carried. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds.
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