"Ruth?" he called. "Ay. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. But seriously, things are not so bad as you think. " "Confusion!" thundered Wild. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. She’s got a great imagination.
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