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“Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. She winked at him as he shut the door. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. It seems to me very silly.
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