" "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. ” The irrepressible smile curved Anna’s lips. ‘So it was. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.
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